Torchbearer
by UnknownUnseenUnheard
Summary: Because Izuku was always meant to become the wielder of One for All. In which All Might falls defeating All for One, and Izuku inherits his power regardles
1. Inheritor

A/N: I had this idea around the time I published my other MHA fic.

Published: 4/18/2018

Warnings: Graphic description of Violence. Hm. I haven't had to use that warning in a while.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 **Inheritor**

 _"If you do this, if you fight him, if you face him… You will die. Please, Toshinori. Please, don't. He's the end. He's your end."_

Nighteye had warned him.

Nighteye had known it would be futile, but he had tried anyways. Futile, because there was no way Toshinori would back down. No way that he would turn away from this. He could not. He refused. It just wasn't in his nature to run.

He was a hero, and heroes do not run.

"Killing you will be the cream on the crop." All for One states, cheerful as he marches forth. All around them lays the remain of a forest, burned by All for One's flames. The elements themselves twisted around the other, his eyes twisting with vile mirth.

Toshinori grunted, rising to full height.

Never had he felt so battered. So weakened. Half his costume had been blasted off, he was bleeding from too many places to count, and he was pretty sure he had a concussion.

All for One was not much better. Despite the bravado the other displayed, he was just as bartered, just as beaten. Toshinori had ripped out his arms. Twice. He'd regenerated, because of course the sociopath could regenerate, but doing so had taken a toll on the other.

"The final nail in the coffin. The final strike against Nana. I will erase even her memory from this world. Erase her, as I erase you. This is the end, Symbol of Peace. Your death will be the beginning of a new era, one that shall be built upon your battered corpse."

All for One, like many villains, enjoyed monologuing like if was no ones business. Why villains liked to do so was beyond Toshinori, but it was useful. It let him catch his breath while they wasted theirs gloating.

 _"Don't you get it!" the hands on his shoulders are frantic now, shaking him. Wild, scared, terrified. "He will end you! If you face him… There will be no winners. You can't win. You can't survive. It's the end."_

Toshinori stood to full height. All for One's handsome face twisted into a sadistic smirk as he took another step. The earth began to shake, rattling around them.

"I will finally end this accursed power of yours. One for All… My greatest mistake. My greatest grievance. I had no idea such a thing could be born. I was a fool, but no longer. I-"

Toshinori doesn't let him finish. Instead, he lifts his fist and swings.

* * *

"Get the hell out of my way, Deku!"

"Ah, Kacchan!"

Izuku Midoriya had always dreamed of being a hero. Even now, his dream continued to persist, even though the world had eloquently told him that no, he could not be a hero.

Well, Izuku was too stubborn for that. He refused. He wanted to be a hero, so he would be a hero. It was his dream.

The how, though, he was still questioning.

Okay. So he didn't have a Quirk. He could deal with that. Kacchan didn't seem to think so, though. Kacchan thought Izuku was an idiot. Worse than that, he thought Izuku was useless. Useless and broken. That's why he called him 'Deku'. It meant, someone who can't do anything right. Useless.

As far as Kacchan was concerned, that's what Izuku was. Anyone without a Quirk was useless, because not having a Quirk meant Izuku was weak. Anyone who was weak was not worth Katsuki's time.

Or, so he claimed.

That didn't stop him from hanging around Izuku, or letting Izuku trail behind him. Why Izuku still wanted that was beyond him. Kacchan was… He was so mean.

Izuku didn't get it.

Did his Quirk make him mean? He'd never been so mean before, picking on the other kids and even on Izuku himself. Kacchan went from the one who punished bullies to being the bully, and it was such a dichotomy from his former attitude that it left Izuku feeling dizzy whenever he thought about it for too long.

Like right now.

Katsuki cracked his knuckles together, fire dancing on fingertips.

"I said move, you useless fucking nerd!"

"No, I won't!"

Kacchan snarls. Fingers curling up into a fist, with his two minions trailing behind him, he snarls.

* * *

All for One is a monster of ungodly proportions. How he can take so many Quirks within himself and not have his body deteriorate is a wonder, although Toshinori supposes that that particular statement isn't entirely true.

All for One has sacrificed something for this power. He's sacrificed himself. His mind, his soul. All that power, coursing in him, yet no sanity. How can one like him have anything even mildly resembling sanity, really?

All for One is a beast that snapped long ago under the combined weight of his own powers.

Toshinori shatters through another earth wall. Brute force. That is all Toshinori has. Pure brute force. Power inherited across generations. A power he inherited from Nana, and that she inherited from her predecessor.

Power, born for the sole purpose of doing this.

Born to undo this monster.

All for One howls.

"Why won't you die!"

Then, he raises his hand into the air, and a small black sphere blasts out. If ascends to the sky, where, in seconds, it begins to pull.

Toshinori has seen a similar Quirk before, although this one is not as destructive as Thirteen's. Wood, bark, stones, dust, any poor creature that hadn't already run from the clash of two titans, Toshinori himself…

Everything was being hauled in, pulled in.

Of course, All for One would have such a technique hidden up his sleeve.

 _"If I face him, can I end this?"_

 _Nighteye freezes, backing away._

 _"Wha- what?" he stutters out the word._

 _"If I fight him, will this come to an end? You're certain I will die, but tell me, old friend… What of All for One? What shall become of him? Will this cycle end?"_

Toshinori swings, but not with his arms. No. That is to be expected. That is predictable. That, he has done a thousand times.

Instead, he's let force built into his legs.

Toshinori kicks out, and the world breaks around him.

 _"I…"_

 _"Tell me. If I don't face him, what will happen?"_

 _"You'll live!"_

 _"And the price?"_

 _Silence is all that answers him._

 _"And that is why I cannot run."_

* * *

Kacchan has never held back. Not against Izuku. Not against anyone. Izuku knows that his mom has trained him to be merciless, and that's exactly what Kacchan is.

Izuku tries to fight back. He really does. But, he isn't strong enough. Against Kacchan, he isn't strong enough.

Kacchan doesn't even bother using his Quirk. That's probably the most insulting thing about it. Kacchan is beating him with his bare hands, no powers, no anything, and Izuku is still loosing.

"Pathetic." Katsuki snarls.

Izuku is slammed down to the ground. The other ten year old wraps a hand around his throat. A dangerous hand that can leave burns and bruises and leave him whimpering in agony.

Red eyes glare down at him. The face above him sneers in disgust.

"You can't even take me when I'm not using my Quirk, and you want to be a hero? What kind of sick fucking joke is that, Deku?" the words pour out like poison, and Izuku sniffles.

He sniffles, because it's true.

It's true, but Izuku doesn't care.

The world can turn him away, but Izuku refuses. He will be a hero. He will. That's a promise.

* * *

"I think… Yes. That would be perfect. This face is perfect for this."

The words slip from All for One's mouth. Even before the last syllable is uttered, his form shifts. Melts before him into that of another and Toshinori can't help but freeze. His body refuses to obey, because this cannot be real.

It can't.

And, it isn't.

There's an arm inside him.

Familiar eyes glare up at him.

It was twisted. It was cruel. It was underhanded. It was something Toshinori should have expected out of a monster, but he hadn't. He hadn't, and he'd paid the price.

Her face stared up at him. Nana's face, gazing at him almost lovingly, the same way she had when she was here and she was living and she was breathing. Smiled at him as blood soaked fingers trailed along Toshinori's cheek, beaming at him as if he'd just done something particularly impressive and she was proud. So, so proud.

Blood.

Blood, everywhere.

There's ice crawling up across his chest, his arm is… Missing… And All Nana is right before him. Her form shifts. It melts away, until all that is left is All for One. His lips twisted into a snarl, his fist hurried deep in Toshinori's chest.

It's a wonder he's still alive, really.

All for One laughs. He laughs, staring right at him. Laughs, because Toshinori knows that this is it.

He isn't going to be walking out of this one alive.

This is it.

The end.

His end, just like Nighteye predicted. The path to this moment wasn't written in stone. It could have been today. It could had been tomorrow. It could have been a decade from now.

Regardless, Toshinori would die at the hands of All for One, either here in the moment of years later from the wounds.

"Do me a favor, All Might. Say hello to my little brother for me?" All for One asks, and he's laughing.

Toshinori grits his teeth.

"Tell him yourself!"

Then, with all his force, with all the energy left in him, pushing through past his limits and past the limits of his Quirk, Toshinori slams his head against the others.

The explosion can be seen for miles as Toshinori Yagi gives one last breath.

* * *

Izuku's eyes snap open as something… Unfamiliar courses through him. Energy, blossoming in his chest, through his veins, into his bones.

Kacchan is laughing.

Izuku is bleeding from a wound on his head. Head wounds are always the worst. They bleed the most. He's gonna have to explain to his mom, which is always a pain.

Izuku sits up, sniffing.

Kacchan sneers at him.

"What's wrong nerd? Want more? I'll be happy to oblige." Kacchan's words promise more pain. Izuku knows he'll deliver, too.

He doesn't care.

Instead, Izuku stands. On shaky feet, he stands, and he roars.

He lifts his arm and, instinctively, he swings.

Only this time, there's a difference. A crucial difference. One that makes every other moment superfluous. One that changes everything.

Because Izuku Midoriya was always meant to inherit One for All, and All Might's passing, even if Izuku himself wasn't aware of it, wasn't going to stop a little thing like fate.

As he swings, his eyes glow.

Glow with power he doesn't understand as green lightning dances on his skin.

Kaachan freezes.

Izuku roars and let's his fist loose.

Instinct drives the other, too. Katsuki moves, explosion propelling him out of the way as pure kinetic force tears through the park, ripping the ground to shreds as Izuku screams.

Katsuki lands a few feet away, looking at the destruction in awe.

"De- Deku… You. You little shit, you had a Quirk this entire time, you lying deceptive little-" Katsuki's awe quickly melts into rage and the perceived deception and he spins to give Izuku a piece of his mind.

Except Izuku is whimpering and crying and knelt over, clutching at an arm that is twisted and bent and red and broken. Heavy tears fall down his face as he looks up.

"Ka… Kaachan."

Then, Izuku falls, face first into the sand, body finally giving out.


	2. Chosen

A/N: Hey. Here's the next chapter, everyone. Enjoy :)

Published: 5/18/2018

Warnings: More violence. Lovely, right?

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

 **Chosen**

Everything around him was so dark.

It felt… It felt like he was drowning in it. No. Not felt. He was. Izuku was drowning in it. Drowning in this darkness, drowning in the shadows. They pulled at him, dragging him down. Dragging him further into the abyss, and would that even be so bad?

Tired. Izuku felt tired. So, so tired.

He wanted to rest. He wanted to close his eyes and just sleep. Was that too much to ask for, too much to want?

"Don'-"

Izuku blinked.

What was that? He could have sworn he just heard… But no. That was impossible. There was no one here. No one here but himself. Just him, in the shadows. Just…

What was his name again?

He felt… Dizzy and faint. Grodgy. The world around him seemed to flicker, shadows suddenly becoming blinding. White light, all around. He gasped.

"Keep him stable!"

"What did this kid do to himself?"

"We're going to have to sedate him!"

What… What on earth? He growled. Why couldn't these people just let him sleep? Who did they think they were, disturbing his precious rest time? A hand darted out, followed by screams.

One of the screams that he recognized as his own.

Owe! His hand… It felt like it had been dipped in lava. Like the time Kacchan had taken his hand in both of his and let off an explosion.

Wait…

Kacchan? Who was Kacchan?

Who was he again?

Then, the world came back to focus. It came back to focus as he descended, his feet landing gently against the ground. It came back into focus, except, it couldn't be real. Looking up, he gazed around.

A ruined warehouse greeted him, blasted to smithereens. In the center of it stood a single figure, striding casually across the room. The man whistled to himself a cheery tune, hand lifting up into the air as a smirk splayed across his face.

On the other side of the room, a woman was lifted bodily into the air, an invisible hand gripping her and slamming her into the wall. Blond blood matted hair splayed across her face as she gasped, gripping at her throat.

She couldn't move. She couldn't breath. Her life, her breath, was being choked right out of her by an invisible hand. She could feel it, clamping down on her.

She refused to go down without a fight.

Leg rising, she smashed it against the invisible limb holding her hostage with enough force to shatter concrete. Sure enough, whatever the hell it was let go. Falling down to her knees, she choked in several breaths, eyes gazing up.

Cruel laughter rained around her.

"You are the one he sent? Oh, little brother, how disgusting ignorant of you." the man started to cackle, taking another step.

Izuku wanted to tell the girl to run. He wanted to tell her to leave, as fast as she could.

He wanted too, but he couldn't. He couldn't even move. All he could do was stand here, frozen, and watch.

Chains erupted out of the ground, wrapping themselves around the girl. With a grunt, she was pinned down. Forced to her knees, metal keeping her bound and entrapped.

This wasn't a fight. This was a slaughter.

The Villain, because that's the only thing he could truly be, laughed. He took a step forward, his hand reaching out to cup the girl's cheek in the palm of his hand. Twisting her head, he forced her to look up at him.

Defiantly, she glared back.

Izuku wasn't sure if he could have done that. He was pretty sure he'd have whimpered it cried. Probably even sobbed a bit, because Kacchan was right and Izuku was a crybaby.

"Yes… Yes, I think this will be perfect." The Villain muttered. Then, before she could stop him, the hand moved, pressing against to her forehead, trailing along her face, towards her mouth.

She tried to fight back. Tried to pull away. Anything. But, she couldn't. Not here and not now. Not as beaten as she was, shattered and broken. Not wrapped in those chains, pinned and trapped and with nowhere to go.

There was no defense, no way out. Only The Villain's hand, caressing against her cheek.

A sharp gasp escaped her as energy pooled from her stomach, only to be roughly yanked out, a white glowing substance escaping her mouth and right into The Villain's waiting palm.

His eyes glowed silver and she watched as a euphoric look crossed the monster's face.

Even battered as she was, she had the energy for this. Glaring up, she spat. The villain didn't bat an eyelash, even as he wiped away the saliva from his face.

"Go ahead. Kill me. Another will take my place. And another. And another. And another. In the end, you'll fall, no matter how many it takes." She promised.

The Villain laughed. Boisterous and twisted, he laughed.

"Oh no, my girl. There will be no more of your kind. Your era ends here. Your time is over and done. A new era, one of Quirks and powers will be born, and for that, we must erase the past. Erase you." The Villain promised her. Then, he lifted his hand, silver light glowing at his fingertips. "This… Power of yours. I will grant it to my brother, force it onto him so that he may understand the reality: even you, Chosen One... Even you are nothing before my might."

With those last words, The Villian made a single motion, fingers sliding to the side.

Her neck snapped in two as she fell face first, broken and dead.

Izuku screamed.

Then, the world melted. The world melted as Izuku turned away, melted as unfamiliar arms wrapped around him and pulled. Pulled him away from here, from this mess, from this murder.

That's what villians did. They killed and hurt and they didn't care about what damage they inflicted because that was the type of people that they were.

The arms pulled him away, and Izuku clung to them. Clung to them because they were real and there and safe.

Wait… Who's arms were these, anyways?

Izuku looked up. He wished he hadn't. With another scream leaving his lips, he attempted to back away. Two hands landed on his shoulders, holding him in place.

The Villain was staring right at him, holding him in place. Izuku whimpered, tears falling down his face.

"You… You're the one. The next inheritor."

Izuku increased his struggles.

"Let me go! Let me go! Please! Let me go! I- I- you're not a nice man!" Izuku went from trying to pull away to pummeling uselessly against the other's chest.

The man pulled back, a sad look in his eyes.

He didn't deserve to look dad. He didn't deserve to look anything at all like that. He-

"I suppose I do look like him, don't I? He did always claim to be older, but, really, do a couple of minutes actually count?"

What?

Izuku backed away, eyeing the stranger in trepidation.

This man… He looked like The Villian. He sounded like The Villian. Same eyes, ears, curve of the nose, hair… All of it, the same.

All of it, except for one crucial, important detail.

His eyes… They were the same shape. The same color. Had the exact same flecks dancing within the iris. Identical, except for one thing.

The Villain's eyes had been filed with endless cruelty. This man's eyes were full of compassion, of kindness.

"You aren't… the bad man." Izuku whispered, almost to himself.

The man looked startled at that before nodding.

"That's right. I'm not. But, that's not important right now. You need to wake up, Izuku."

Izuku blinked.

"I am awake." Izuku shot the other man a questioning look.

The man blinked and groaned. Izuku's confusion only grew as the man dug his face into his palm, shaking his head.

"I could have sworn I was done with the 'dude, you're so retarded look'!" The man hissed. "Of course, the inheritor of my will would have it too."

"Huh?"

The man shook his head, looking back up.

"Nothing, nothing." The man waved off. Izuku did not believe him. "You're asleep, Izuku. Or, rather, I put you under before you could do more damage to yourself." this was said sternly, as if the man had caught Izuku with his hand in the cookie jar before dinner.

Izuku's confusion only grew.

"What do you mean? What damage?"

The hand rose up again. Izuku couldn't help but flinch at the sight of it. He'd already come to the conclusion that this man and The Villian were two separate entities, but he couldn't help it.

Not after witnessing what that terrible hand had been capable of.

The hand poked Izuku's arm. Izuku looked at the man in confusion before looking down at his arm.

Izuku screamed.

"What- how- why- what?"

Because in the place of Izuku's arm was a mangled mess of torn muscle, skin falling off and pieces of shattered bone sticking right out.

The man grimaced.

"That, Izuku, is your body not being able to hold back the push of our Quirk." the man explained.

If Izuku hadn't been so horrified to find his arm so mangled, he'd have been thrilled at the knowledge that he actually had a Quirk. As it was, Izuku was too busy hyperventilating to think about it. Instead, he continued to stare at his own arm in growing horror, his breaths coming in sharply, one after the other.

Hands gripped his face, making Izuku look up.

"It's alright. It's okay. I stopped it, before it could completely blow your arm off. As it is, if they get you medical attention soon, it should be fine."

Fine? Fine? Izuku's arm looked like it had been stuck in a meat grinder on high before being trampled a dozen times over the stampede that killed Mufasa. How on earth was this going to be fine?!

The man must have read Izuku's look, because he chuckled. Izuku wanted to hit him for it.

"Healing Quirks really are a wonder. It'll scar, there's no stopping that, but you'll still be able to use it."

Would he?

Izuku had used his so called Quirk once and had nearly lost an arm for it. What kind of power, what kind of Quirk did that?

"Now, listen to me, Izuku." the hands on his shoulders sharpen their grip. Izuku winced as he was shaken by the other lightly. "You need to wake up. You need to open your eyes. You need to go back. You don't belong here. Not yet. Get up, okay? You need to get up, and live."

Get up… And live?

Live.

Izuku wanted to live, he realized.

He wanted to live, because he wanted to see his mom again. He wanted to live, because he was going to be a hero. He wanted to live, because hell, he just wanted it. He wanted to live, he wanted to wake, he wanted to-

Izuku's eyes shot open with a sharp gasp, his body shooting forward slightly before falling back against the white sheets of a hospital bed. Around him, machines began to beep and scream, loudly, no doubt alerting someone of Izuku's awakened state.

A pant escaped Izuku's lips, eyes darting down towards his arm.

Scared, but there. Izuku let out a sigh of relief before a sob alerted him to another presence in the room. Izuku turned his head with difficulty.

"Oh, my baby! Izu!"

His mom looked like she was resisting the urge to toss herself right on him and drag Izuku into a bear hug. He was thankful for that. While Izuku really wanted a hug right now, he wasn't sure his body could take it.

Then, a nurse entered the room, took one look at Izuku, and spun. Leaning out the door, she shouted for a doctor.

Izuku wasn't out of this yet, it seemed.

* * *

So, I now have a tumblr. Same username as on here. I've just started the thing, but I'll be posting random things there for all my stories


	3. Guilt

A/N: hehe, hi all? Yessss, yes I know. It's been months. I was looking through my stories and had the urge to update this one, so here we go.

Annnnd to the guest reviewer who asked if the girl from the last chapter was meant to be a Slayer: I admit nothing. Mind you, I deny nothing either, so take that as you will.

(This is definitely Buffy inspired, no lie. On that note, I never did finish the Buffy comics)

For those unfamiliar, the basic premise of Buffy is that there is a being called a Slayer that gain enhanced physically and occasionally psychic powers that they're suppose to use to save the world. Each time one dies, the power instinctively moves onto the next best candidate, so on and so forth, which is what happened at the beginning of this story

Published: 12/07/2018

Warnings: None

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

 **Guilt**

For Katsuki Bakugou, guilt was a very unfamiliar emotion, and one he didn't know how to handle properly, how to deal with. Guilt was a burning emotion that boiled in him, surging through every part of him, leaving a dark pit in his stomach that made him want to smash it to pieces.

And wasn't that a laugh?

He wanted to smash his guilt.

Wanted to attack it with violence.

Violence, his answer to everything.

Violence, the reason he felt guilt in the first place.

That realization made the fire flare, for one brilliant moment. Flare brightly, engulfing all before it fell apart, the embers and sparks fading into a cascade of coldness that swept through him like a winter breeze.

He'd done this.

He'd done this to Deku.

He hadn't known. How could he have known? Katsuki was sure even the nerd hadn't known. He hadn't known, but he knew now. He knew now, but that hardly made a difference. It hardly made a difference because the ice crawling alongside his veins just wouldn't go away. It just wouldn't be sated.

"My baby!" His mother clutched to Katsuki's still shellshocked form, holding onto him even as personnel ran about the playground. They thought it was some sort of villain attack, aimed at kids. At the future generation.

A wild, out of control blast that had torn half the park to tatters. Raw power that had left a scar running along the ground, trees shattered apart into splinters, ruin in its wake.

They thought a villain had done this.

Technically, they were right, Katsuki thought bitterly, but not in the way they thought it, no.

The hero had caused the destruction while trying to take out the real villain. This was your classic cold and cut case of collateral damage. The real villain was fine. The real villain had walked away unscathed while the hero was being rushed over for urgent care.

The villain stood in the ruins of his actions, held against his mother, eyes wide and body shaking with horrid realization. Horrid realization, because Katsuki knew, then and there, that this _was his fault._

 _His._

Deku, Katsuki realized, was a late fucking bloomer. The latest goddamn bloomer he'd ever seen or heard of, but a late bloomer nonetheless. They weren't that usual now a days. When Quirks had first began, it wasn't uncommon for a person to reach well into adulthood before discovering their powers.

Nowadays, Quirks were usually discovered in the early stages of childhood, usually by eight at latest. Usually. Deku, it seemed, had not been content with just blowing the playground out of existence. He'd also blown well none conceptions and truths about Quirks right out of the water too.

How?

He'd awakened a Quirk, but not in a way that he should have. Quirks were gradual, slow. A part of you. A muscle you trained and honed, made stronger.

Deku's wasn't a goddamn muscle.

It had no restraint.

It had no limit.

It had no limiter.

It destroyed.

It destroyed Deku.

It destroyed his arm.

It destroyed this goddamn playground.

And, Katsuki knew why.

He knew why, plain and simple.

Katsuki had pushed. And pushed. And pushed, again and again. Pushed, because that moron was weak and he disgusted him, so Katsuki shoved him down again and again and again.

Except, apparently, Katsuki had finally pushed too hard.

Pushed so hard that some instinctive part of Deku had reacted. Something within the other boy had awakened. Something wild and untempered, completely out of control. What should have been something happy and wonderful was something monstrous and potentially lethal.

Katsuki had done what he always did, with flying colors.

He'd taken something good and precious and kind and shattered it.

Katsuki was the villain. He knew that now. He was the villain, because only a villain could cause something like this. Only a villain could make a hero destroy. Only a villain could hurt someone so much they'd react like this.

He was the villain, and fuck it if he knew what the hell he was going to do to fix it, because damn it, no normal ten year old actually wants to be the villain of the story and Katsuki was wayyyy too young to be re evaluating his life choices while his mother sobbed and clung to him and whispered sweet nothings into his ears, but hey, here he was feeling and doing exactly that.

* * *

Drinking at the workplace is not an approved of action. In fact, doing so has gotten many a person fired on the spot. The workplace is not for leisure, not for recreation. Drinking at work, frankly, is very frowned upon, for various reasons.

Reasons that, at the moment, Sir Nighteye could not give a single fuck about as he tossed back another drink. Sitting at his desk, more like sprawled on it, Nighteye had already gone through two bottles and was working not only on a third, but well on his way to alcohol poisoning.

There was much reason to drink today, much reason to drown out his sorrows with the bitter taste of alcohol.

All Might was dead.

Toshinori Yagi was no more.

Gone.

Taken from the world.

Taken from him.

Nighteye closed his eyes, face scrunched in pain.

Gone, just like he'd warned him.

A warning that had not been headed.

A warning that had been ignored.

Nighteye had seen. He had seen, and had forewarned. But, had that idiot listened to him?

No. Of course not. All Might did what All Might always did, with a big smile on his face, striding forward. He hadn't even bothered picking an inheritor in case the worse happened, which, as far as Nighteye was concerned, was the most irresponsible factor of the whole thing.

And fallen, he had.

Toshinori Yagi's last stand, tearing a crater several kilometers wide into Japan. The man had gone out the same way he had lived, explosively, large, and with a commanding presence that demanded that you look at him. Oh, others had looked alright.

Nighteye hadn't bothered.

He knew what he would find.

He'd seen the image enough times in his nightmares over the last few weeks. He did not need to see the image with his own two eyes.

Then, he felt it.

A breeze, rippling through.

An echo, a smell, a sound…

Nighteye, bleary and dizzy, looked up.

For a moment…

But no.

For a moment, he could have sworn he'd felt his presence again, but that was impossible. Impossible, because All Might was gone. All Might was gone, and all Nighteye was left with was the crushing knowledge that he'd known. That he'd known, and that he'd been powerless to stop it.

* * *

It had been too late for Toshinori.

It would not be too late for this boy.

Chiyo Shuzenji, better known by her alias as Recovery Girl, had had many regrets this day. The first was arriving too late to help Toshinori, although she much doubted even she could have done anything for him, anything at all.

He had been dead by the time they'd arrived. Dead, while a smile splayed across his face. Dead and gone and alone. Everything else around him had been utterly vaporized. Whatever he had fought, whatever he had clashed with, Toshinori had attacked with his all.

If anything survived that, Chiyo did not want to face it. Did not want to come anywhere near it.

Her efforts, her concentration, would be focused on another task.

For a moment, she bitterly realized that she could not even mourn properly. She was a doctor, a medic. Someone like her was always needed, was always required. She was needed now, for a medic's work was never done.

Bitterness that she swallowed down and rejected.

Rejected away, for the child she needed to help deserved none of her scorn, none of her anger. No, what the boy would need would be her help, whatever she could offer.

Using her power on children was not something Chiyo was fond of. Yes, she could heal practically any wound, but the drawback was that it drained strength from whomever she healed. In an adult, this could result in an extra long nap.

In a child, if she overdid it, it could stunt their growth. Children were delicate creatures, and, for her to be called for this, the situation had to be grave indeed.

"He's this way. The boy is in serious condition. Severe damage to his right arm. Tendons torn. It… Honestly, it looks like someone stuck the kids arm in a blender and left it on high."

Chiyo had yet to meet a medical doctor that was squeamish around blood. Frankly, if you were, you needed to choose another profession. Regardless, there was no denying the apprehension in the young man's voice. Apprehension, and a touch of revulsion.

Chiyo decided to ignore it. Instead, silently, she followed behind as she was led to the operating room.

Led there, and froze the moment she entered.

Froze… Because she had seen this injury before. She had treated this wound before. Froze, because she recognized what was before her for what it was in a way few others would.

Chiyo had treated Nana. She had treated Toshinori. She would never mistaken this for anything else.

There, strapped down as medics moved about him in rapid succession, beeping machines carefully helping his breath along, was a child. A child that had, inexplicably, inherited One for All.

Inexplicably, unless…

NO.

No.

Toshinori would have never done this. Not to one so young. Not to a child. Chiyo refused to believe that. Perhaps she was mistaken. Perhaps this was something similar. Similar enough to cause near identical limb damage.

Whatever it was did not matter now.

Chiyo rolled up her sleeves. She had work to do. She could not save Toshinori. She would not fail to save this boy, this Izuku Midoriya.


End file.
